Wandering Erik
by Margo Lamont
Summary: Erik is on his deathbed with Nadir at his side. The sudden appearance of a stranger offers the choice of another chance at life... Loosely Susan Kay based. ON HIATUS.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note -_

_This story takes place shortly before the ending of Susan Kay's Phantom, except in my universe, Christine never came back and got it on with Erik. This story begins when Erik is dying on his… err, deathbed._

_**Note about religion:**_

_There will be some religious themes discussed within this story. I want to make it clear that I respect all religions equally. I also want to state that this is just a work of fiction, a story. Religious aspects included herein are used for story-telling purposes only. No offence is intended._

_Oooookay! Thanks for reading (I know I always skip author's notes) and enjoy!_

_Margo Lamont_

**Chapter 1** - **An Offer**

Any person would take one look at the man on the bed and swiftly conclude that he has been deceased for two weeks. But upon closer inspection, the chest is seen to rise and fall - barely and unevenly - but rising and falling nonetheless. The eyes, usually unbearably intense, now look glazed as they stare feebly up at the ceiling. Usually so unyielding in his demands for his mask, he now took it off himself, for he can no longer breathe with it on.

The pain, that unbearable, persistent pain is with him always now. It feels as if his chest is being ripped apart, and it burns as if white-hot pokers are trust into his heart. He knows that this time, it will not go away.

A door slowly opens and another man enters, carrying a tray.

"I don't believe this," Erik whispers. "How many times, how many bloody times have I told you to stop fussing over me like some school-girl nurse and leave me to die in peace, for God's sake!"

The words lost some of their maliciousness by the weakness in Erik's voice, and Nadir paid no heed. "I've brought you some water," he stated simply. "You need to drink."

"I don't want any."

Nadir sighed, but pressed no further. Instead he sat on a chair by the bed and made himself comfortable.

Erik turned his head and regarded his companion through slit eyes. "And just what do you think you are doing?"

"I am sitting with you, Erik," he answered, and before the sick man could protest, he continued. "You may tell me otherwise all you like, but no man should be alone on his deathbed. No man desires to be alone. And although you insist on detaching yourself from the human race, in the end you are simply a dying man... with an old friend by his side. One who will not leave, regardless of the insults he must endure at his expense."

Erik turned his head and looked away. "Damn you," he whispered. But this time there was no trace of maliciousness, and his eyes prickled with tears as he worked through the sudden constriction in his throat.

"I know it's almost fruitless for me to ask," Nadir hesitated, "but would you like me to say a prayer?"

For the longest time, Erik said nothing, and Nadir thought that maybe he had fallen asleep - or worse. But then, the barest of whispers reached Nadir's ears: "Yes."

Nadir reached into his pocket and pulled out a well-thumbed little book. He found his page, and softly began to sing. For the Quran was always meant to be sung, its verses and teachings all the more beautiful when uttered aloud.

Erik lay quietly and listened, his breathing becoming more and more restricted with each passing moment. When Nadir finished, he quietly closed the book, and slipped it back into his pocket.

The two men simply existed in silence for a long time, for they both realised that nothing needed to be said. Nadir, who thus far felt that he had been handling himself neutrally well, suddenly realised that despite all that this ruined and wretched man lying before him had done, he will genuinely miss him once he had gone. And Erik... well, Erik thought of many things, mostly Christine - that beautiful, sweet angel! - but also of his life, a life he so desperately wanted to end for as long as he can remember, and now when it finally will end...

Suddenly a pain gripped him that was so incredibly shocking, so electrifyingly stabbing, it caused Erik to suddenly sit up, grip his chest, and flop back down, his breath slow and frightenly faint, passing through his horrible lips.

"...thank you."

Nadir leaned forward: "You're welcome, _mon ami_."

Erik slowly closed his eyes, and Nadir prepared himself for the last breath of the dying man, when suddenly-

"Alright, I think that's close enough, I'm gonna talk to him now."

Erik's eyes shot open, Nadir bolted out of his chair and turned to see from where the voice was coming. Standing smartly in the far corner of the room, casually examining a hairbrush that he picked up from the dressing table, was an extremely ordinary and not-remarkable-in-any-way man. The man noticed the two bewildered stares of the original occupants of the room, and quickly said in a rush: "Oops, they spotted me. I guess I accidentally turned "see-me" mode on a little too early. Gotta go, I'll talk to ya later."

The ordinary man put down the brush, straightened his suit jacket and slowly approached the two bewildered men, his arms stretched wide as if he wanted to give them both a hug, and said in an impressive, charismatic, deep voice (not at all like the one he used earlier): "Children of the Most High! Do not be afraid, for I come from the Unknown, as the messenger and voice of the one you call 'God'. Peace be with you!"

Erik, who had managed to sit in order to face this intruder who, in turn, was obviously incredibly brazen and stupid, for once had absolutely nothing to say, so he contented himself by starring at the newcomer with outraged anger. Nadir looked like he was concentrating with all his might, for he kept looking from the door to the room to the corner the ordinary man was standing in, and it did not comprehend in his mind how a man had managed to get past his chair without him or Erik noticing, and nothing passes unnoticed by Erik's eyes; even if the man does happen to be dying.

The ordinary man held his arms wide for a moment more, smiling into the faces of one man and then the other, before dropping his arms with a sign and remarking, "Okay, look. I'm an angel from heaven. Well, not really, Erik, but you've been raised Catholic, right? So that's what I'm appearing as. And that's why Erik didn't notice me slipping past your chair, Nadir. I just appeared in this corner right now. And you," here he pointed at Erik, "are in quite some serious trouble. Well, that's to say, your soul is."

"Who are you?" stated Erik in a dangerous whisper. "How did you get past my alarms? If - "

"Kindly pay attention. I just told you who I am. Now shut up and listen," said the "Angel." He turned to Nadir and said, much more kindly , "You can listen too if you want, Nadir."

Nadir slowly sank into his chair.

"Under normal circumstances, Erik, as soon as you would have breathed your last breath, your soul would have plunged straight into what you call 'hell', where you would spend all - well, you know.

However, we have considered the circumstances. Combined with your less than amiable life, with the redemption you have felt in your heart by the acts of Christine Daae, and the fact that technically - that word is very important - _technically_ you are not evil at heart, we have decided that you may not be entirely worthy of such a fate.

Of course, the Dark One disagrees. He had readily pointed out that you have murdered and killed, blackmailed, kidnapped, tortured, lied, cheated, stolen, etc., etc... in which case, he is absolutely right. After a brief debate, it had been determined that you are not 'bad' enough to go to 'hell', but also not 'good' enough to go to 'heaven'. So let me ask you this, what do you think should be done?"

"Purgatory," Erik sneered.

"Psshhh, there's no such thing," the "Angel" waved off. "That's just something humans made-up in order to make themselves feel better with all the crap they're committing. We laugh about it... sometimes. We have to laugh."

When it was apparent that no further sarcastic contribution will be put forth by Erik, the "Angel" continued. "We have decided - and when I say "we" I mean the one you call 'God' - that you will be given the choice of another chance."

"... chance?" Erik wheezed.

"Your choices are thus. If you choose to die now, your soul will go down to 'hell'. BUT, you can choose to live. You will stay upon this earth. You will neither grow old nor sick, you will stay exactly as you are (after I cure you, of course). Kind of like that 'Wandering Jew' story you humans made up."

"Immortal?"

"Technically, yes. That word is very important, because there is a catch. Because you have spent all your life looking for love, and in the end your love for Christine Daae helped save you (kind of), you must find someone who will love you - truly and honestly love you - for who you are. You MUST do this. Oh, and you have to do it honestly. Like, you can't pretend you're someone you're not." Here the "Angel" coughed, and it sounded suspiciously like "angelofmusic." Erik's eyes narrowed.

"Of course," the Angel continued, "your face will stay exactly as it is."

"Of course," Erik clipped.

"I need to inform you now that in the future, technologies will be available for reconstructive and aesthetic facial surgery. These surgeries will be able to repair your face. You are forbidden to undergo any such procedure."

"Of course!" Erik clipped again.

"Any sins you commit during your 'immortal' time will be added against you, so I strongly suggest you put your murdering days behind you. If you find someone to love you, you will cease to be immortal, and you will continue from that time on to live a normal life, and your soul at your death will be judged only from the time this whole thing started, and not the sins you have committed in your first life. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"And, you have a time limit."

"A time limit. And how long, pray, do I have to complete this damn impossible of a feat if for the fifty years of my wretched existence it has been fruitless?" Erik sneered.

"Two hundred years. Why two hundred? I don't know, we agreed that to be a good number. This is starting tomorrow, if you choose to accept. And when I say tomorrow, I mean in thirty-six minutes, at midnight. Why midnight? Because I like to be dramatic that way. It's the little things in life."

Erik sat and pondered.

"I'll leave you to your thoughts. I'll be back just before midnight. In the meantime, please enjoy breathing normally and not being doubled-over in pain." The tightness and constriction in Erik's chest instantly vanished, and he felt better than he had in years.

"I don't understand," Nadir quietly uttered aloud. "Does this indicate that the Christians were right?"

The "Angel" turned. "Oh, Nadir. Do you not realize that your reality is subjective? In the eyes of the one you call God, or Allah, or whatever, there is no such thing as a 'Christian' and a 'Muslim'." With that, the "Angel" vanished before their eyes.

_What did you think? I'm very excited to hear your comments!_ :)


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you to my two reviewers, I really enjoyed reading your comments and they made me very happy! __J I don't get offended easily, so please, any helpful criticism is greatly appreciated._

_I hope you enjoy this chapter. _

**Chapter 2**

Erik spent most of his thirty-six - oh, now thirty-five - minutes thinking about all the things he would consider to be his personal hell. Obviously dying and going to Hell would be hell. Living another two hundred years upon this wretched planet where fifty was enough to drive him insane - would be hell. Enduring the stares, the pointing, the fear, the ignorance... Where would he go? What would he _do_ with himself? Indeed, what would he do for two hundred years? His vast riches would not last him, therefore he would have to find some means of sustaining himself.

Suddenly, a disturbing thought struck him: Christine would die and he wouldn't even age a day. Oh, his beloved Christine. _That_ would be hell.

His concentration was suddenly broken by the sharp sound of wood falling on wood. He looked up into the apologetic eyes of Nadir, who quietly picked up the wooden hairbrush from the dressing table, and continued to slowly examine it, holding the brush tenderly - in both hands this time.

Erik did not want to live a life without Christine. She was his only love, the true keeper of his heart. It did not matter whether he lived two hundred or even a thousand years, the fact remained the same: he would love her for as long as he existed, and nothing would change that. This "second chance" offered to him was nothing of the kind. It was just a way of prolonging the inevitable.

Erik slowly and hesitantly moved his legs to the side of the bed, and like an old man, he carefully stood, letting the thin, soft fabric of the sheets fall behind him. He quickly realized that he needn't have taken such care, for he physically felt absolutely wonderful, like he was young again.

Nadir placed the brush back onto the table and turned towards Erik, not saying anything, but clearly expecting something to be said to him. Erik turned toward him and simply enquired, "Tea?"

Nadir blinked. He then blinked again. And then: "No, I don't want tea! Have you lost your mind? Should you not be - "

"Nadir, I've already come to my decision."

There was a pause. "You have already decided. Very well, and what is your choice?"

"I've decided to die." With that, Erik donned his dressing gown, turned around, and swiftly walked out of the room.

Nadir followed. "Erik, I do not claim to be a man of wisdom, or even of any great intelligence, but even I can see that you have been offered a rare and unique gift."

Erik rounded on Nadir, his eyes flashing dangerously. "A _gift_?" he sneered. He then let out a completely humourless laugh. "Just as my life up to this point has been a gift?"

"Erik -"

"What am I to be thankful for? What am I to consider a gift? This face? _Hmm_? The repulsion? The screams of terror?"

"No, of course not."

"My voice, perhaps?" Erik stated sarcastically.

"Erik, it's another chance! Don't tell me that there are no instances in your life that you wish you had done differently. I know that there are! I have seen you in remorse. The cruelty that the world has shown you is inexcusable, but perhaps in future, the world may be kinder."

"The world is never… _kind_," Erik spat.

Both men fell into a thoughtful silence.

"Would you truly rather choose an eternity of damnation?"

Erik took a deep breath and let it out noisily through his nostrils. "My life is already damned."

"I would at least think that you would be curious as to what the future may hold," Nadir stated.

"Stop."

"That - man - said that procedures would be available to repair your face. Does that not suggest an impressive advance in medicine and science?"

"An impressive advance, if you'd be so good as to remember, I cannot take advantage of."

"But think of what you can learn!" Nadir murmured, "Your face isn't everything, Erik."

Any retort - and undoubtedly it would have been an extremely angry one - that Erik might have given was interrupted by the arrival of the "Angel", who this time had the decency of rapping his knuckles sharply against the door frame before striding into Erik's main living room from the bedroom where their acquaintance was first made. Nadir looked into the bedroom and warily set his eyes on the hairbrush before turning his attention to the stranger.

"Your time is almost at an end, Erik. Have you made your decision?" the 'Angel' enquired.

Erik glanced at the tiny clock over his mantle.

11:57pm.

"I have," stated Erik. As soon as he uttered those words, an old and familiar feeling entered his heart. Almost his entire life was spent absorbed with this feeling. It presented itself when he needed it most. It lingered always at the back of his mind, at the tips of his nerve endings, waiting for the signal to begin. To act.

This feeling was to live. To… _survive._

He always fought for his life. He refused to be at the mercy of any man. That detestable, abhorrent will to live, to fight and claw in order to endure, to get away, to start again… That was why he never took his life into his own hands. But is that all?

What is the root? What is the root to that _will _to be unscathed? To struggle, but to come out stronger. To persevere…

11:58pm.

"And what say you?" the 'Angel' asked.

_Why, why, why? _Why did he do this? Why did he live the life he did? Why did he put himself through so much suffering, so much pain? Was it really just that - this urge, animalistic instinct, this _need _to survive?

"No," Erik whispered.

Nadir gave a violent start. "Erik, you cannot possibly mean -"

"I'm sorry to interrupt you, Nadir, but we are kind of running out of time here," the 'Angel' quickly stated, not taking his eyes off of Erik. "Is that your answer, Erik?"

It was strange, but in that moment, Erik felt something important happening. In a flash of perfect clarity, Erik realized what was deep down, in the most guarded reassesses of his heart: _hope._

Ah_. That's _why.

11:59pm.

"Now or never, Erik," the 'Angel' remarked.

Greatly surprised and a little shaken at his own revelation, Erik took a calming breath. Before he changed his mind, he stated in a clear voice: "I accept the choice of living again."

The 'Angel' smiled. "I thought you might."

The small clock on the mantle chimed.

_Please excuse the cheesy dramatic timing. I'm a sucker for it!_


End file.
